


kick it in the sand

by icarusian



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Trans Character, Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Character, acomoclitic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 05:31:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14418711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusian/pseuds/icarusian
Summary: Keith never really knew softness before Lance.





	kick it in the sand

**Author's Note:**

> this is entirely self-indulgent. if there are any concerns with how i chose to write keith, please let me know. however, all experiences are based on those of my trans male boyfriend, thus words such as "p*ssy" and "c*nt" are not used.
> 
> title from gooey by glass animals
> 
> enjoy!

Keith never really knew softness before Lance. It’s like grainy sand has always been stuck to parts of him, in the calluses on his palms and the bite in his words, personality heating up into glass shards that no one bothered to help him clean up until Lance saw a cathedral window in him and taught him a tenderness he never had in the short time he knew Shiro. Lance didn’t want to sand down his edges— _Who would Keith be without them?_ —, just wanted to coax his inner heart to the outside.

 _Hedgehog_ , Lance had called him once, and he wasn’t wrong; the closer he got to people, the more he risked hurting them. It’s why Keith is so cautious around the team at first, around Shiro after finally getting him back, about urging Pidge stay on the team; he can’t lose anyone again, not after his whole life has been one endless loop of burdened family. But Lance just shrugged, put on some safety gloves, and dove right in, falling hard and fast for the sharp tongue and quick wit, the coarse, inky hair and jerky violence, the tender eyes and the fierce protection.

Of course Keith was drawn to him. Lance had love to give in spades and once Keith was ready to take a sip from the devil’s cup, Lance became his smooth oasis in the dry desert he’d spent years wandering.

Lance hadn’t merely brushed the rough sand off the angry crease in his brow; he’d unwittingly introduced Keith to a _lifestyle_ of softness he never thought possible.

For one, Keith can’t seem to find a single flaw on Lance’s delicate skin. His face is always like warm silk against Keith’s rough, chapped lips when he presses fleeting kisses there before missions, and his boyfriend’s hands are like gloves over his own, seashell nails rubbing thoughtfully over short, bitten ones as they lounge together in the common area. He’s practically hairless too, which Keith just doesn’t get. Lance _never_ has that rough patch of hair on his chin in the mornings like Keith does and makes it a point to nuzzle obnoxiously against his gritty cheeks.

Even the way he treats Keith is soft; yes, they have their spats, they affectionately bite out, “No, fuck you,” and nip at bodies when the going gets rough, but Lance treats him like something to be held tightly at night when the only comfort comes to them in the dim teal running along the walls. And, he does, Keith finds out, night after night Lance tangles their bare legs and tucks his face contentedly into the Red Paladin’s neck, kisses raindrops from cloudy lips and whispers windy affection until they’re both sleep-warm and lulled.

Lance has ruined him. His hair turned fluffy, then smooth after he let Lance test a care routine to fix months under the damaging sun with no source of reliable moisture to count on. Proud of his work, Lance is always fixing the layers into short ponytails or fiddling with the strands as an afterthought. He willingly pasted his face with vibrant colors that were supposed to open his pores or something like that. He learned to adjust his fighting style for a cleaner kill, less like the robotic slaughters he generally executes. He’s started to internally compare the rounded apples of Lance’s high cheeks to the consistency of _marshmallows_.

Shiro teases him for going soft, but he’s always had this in him, Shiro knows. He tries the skin care, he puts up with the PDA, he welcomes the praise. Lance makes him soft. It hasn’t killed him yet to compromise a little for his boyfriend, so Keith sifts his fingers through Lance’s short hair the texture of ribbon and kisses him just a little harder.

⁂

“Can’t believe you shaved for me, Keith, you’re so—”

“— _soft_?” Keith finishes on a moan. He can’t help the pleased grin high on his face, not when he so raptly has Lance’s attention on his body. After Lance tiredly complained the other night about Keith’s thick pubic hair getting in the way of really tonguing him down, Keith took it upon himself to compromise just a little more for their sex life, as well as conduct a little experiment. He’s very aware of Lance’s sideline obsession with grooming the hair on his (and Keith’s when he’s allowed) body, but he never knew just shaving the hair surrounding his vagina would elicit this sort of awed reverence from Lance. His blue eyes can’t look away from where Keith is holding himself open and long, tan fingers smear slick up and down his folds in a slow glide.

“You’re _so_ soft, baby, God, you—” Lance breathes, pupils blown wide as he presses roughly onto Keith’s clit, sending warmth shooting down his legs and thighs twitching open even further. “You feel so good,” he belatedly finishes. Keith eats up the attention and allows the praise to sink under his skin, moans openly when the strokes get shorter and shorter, Lance’s fingers dipping closer and closer to where he’s the wettest like he’s never been able to feel this much of Keith before.

“Yeah?” he breathes, hips hitching up, pleased and hot all over under a boiling gaze when Lance just barely slides his fingertip in.

“Yeah,” he answers, distracted, still openly staring and mouth hanging open slightly. God, he’s never been this in control of Lance’s pleasure like this before, never using his own body as the bait that draws Lance in closer and closer to his breaking point. “Keith—”

“You can eat me out, if you want to,” he supplies. It’s immediate, Lance snapping his gaze up to Keith after the offering is on the bed for just the barest confirmation before assuming the position and swirling his tongue at the hood of his heat. Keith tenses against the hands holding his thighs and tries to take his own hands away now that Lance is where he wants him, but Lance stops the gentle lapping he started not seconds ago and lifts his head almost frantically.

“No, keep holding yourself open for me, I wanna taste all of you,” Lance demands desperately, chin already glistening. He nods once then cries out when Lance lays his tongue flat against all of him and drags it upwards, spreading his pleasure from hole to hood. Keith bites the bottom lip of his stupid grin, absolutely elated at how turned on Lance is from seeing _Keith_ so turned on and wet for him. Lance can’t stop making these throaty, cut-off moans as he really starts getting into it, tongue desperately lapping at his hole and skin no doubt sticky from the way he’s practically pressing his face into Keith’s wetness.

He feels like a real pillow prince with the way he openly croons out demands for Lance to go slower, not so hard, _yes, just like that, Lance, you like that?_ He rolls his hips into the next smooth stroke Lance pulls up his slit, tip of his tongue creating a point of pleasure that Keith can’t get enough of. Lance hums out a strained _mhm_ as he works with the erratic thrusts coming in waves against his face, Keith riding out the smooth glide Lance guides with long, sticky fingers gripping his thighs. The mattress stresses under the added movement of Lance’s hips thrusting down while he indulges Keith, and Keith is flattered that the Blue Paladin is getting off from just this.

Lance is practically servicing him at this point, taking Keith’s pleasure for his own and Keith can’t stop drinking up the attention. Gradually, they slow, Lance bringing his lips back, then dipping back in, resting his jaw but still getting his fill. Keith moans lowly, body stretched and relaxed and legs instinctively fallen open where Lance has loosened his grip, and he thinks he could spend hours with Lance spreading the wetness over his smooth outer lips, previous rush gone and Keith simply basking in the undivided attention.

“I’m not gonna come this time, but feel free to keep going,” he offers, wiping one hand on Lance’s bare shoulder before running it through his hair in encouragement.

“Figured,” Lance says, pulling back and resting his face on Keith’s thigh. He stares up at Keith dreamily, two fingers still sliding up and down his slickness and Keith takes a few deep breaths at the sight. Lance’s expression is gooey honeysuckle, lips shiny and face quickly drying in a way that can’t be comfortable but eyes hooded and happy.

“Did you come?”

“Mhm. Sorry babe,” Lance apologizes, pressing a sticky kiss to his thigh.

Lance runs a wet wipe over their skin to clean them up without prompting, and Keith is just a little smug at how soft Lance is for him in return.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on my [tumblr](http://icarosian.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/icarosian)


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